Calculated in Death (In Death #36)(88)

“But none as expedient, or that fits his pattern of impulse. None that brings those cops down at the moment it seems they’re most vulnerable. All dressed up, peacocking around. And all those people who saw his cowardice and humiliation on screen now get to watch his triumph. If we don’t have him in a cage, Commander, he’ll make his move tomorrow night.”

“I tend to agree. All right, Lieutenant, what’s your plan?”

18

STILL NEEDED SOME WORK, EVE THOUGHT AS she walked back down to Homicide. Even with the commander’s input, the op needed a tighter rein.

Calculating weak spots, soft spots, and dead ends, she stepped into her bullpen.

“Nadine’s in your office,” Peabody called out. “She said you’d asked her to come in.”

“Yeah.” She scanned the room. “I want everyone not needed in the field in whatever conference room Peabody can get. One hour. Peabody, get me the layout of Five Star Theater.”

She left the mutterings behind her, went into her office.

Nadine paced the small area in skinny heels the color of kiwis that matched the waist-whittling jacket snugged over a black leather dress. She peppered questions and answers through an earpiece. They seemed to deal with timing, editing, and eight o’clock reservations. Nadine’s cameraman sat in Eve’s visitor’s chair, and from the beeps and cheers emitting from his PPC, passed the time with a game.

When Nadine gave Eve a just-a-minute gesture, Eve turned to the camera. “Give us a few minutes.”

“Sure.” He hauled himself, his camera, his bag up, and still playing the game, strolled out of the room.

“If he wants it down to two-forty-three, I want Derrick to make the cuts. No, it has to be Derrick. I’ll let you know when I’m done here. If I knew that, I’d tell you now, wouldn’t I? Push it to eight-thirty. Just do it, Maxie.”

Obviously steamed, she yanked off the earpiece. “This better be good,” she told Eve. “I’ve got a special in post-production hell, an assistant who can’t seem to put two clear thoughts together this week, and a last-minute fitting on my dress for tomorrow night.”

“I don’t know if it comes up to the extreme priority of a dress fitting.”

“Don’t be so snotty. Tomorrow night’s important, and I’m damn well going to look sensational.” She stopped, gave Eve a cold, hard look. “You didn’t drag me down here to tell me you’re skipping the premiere?”

“Just the opposite. I want you to interview me about attending the premiere, and make sure it gets some splash.”

“Did you recently suffer some head trauma? From what I saw on the Amazing Baby Catch, you hit your ass. Then again . . .”

“Keep it up. I can get another reporter over here in ten seconds flat.”

“Another reporter wouldn’t go along with whatever you want to stir up, and in fact give it just the right stir.” Nadine sat, crossed her excellent legs. “What are you after?”

“Some media attention, on this specific event. You’ll have your own cameras covering it, right?”

“You bet your probably very sore ass.”

“If this plays out, you’re going to get a hell of a story.”

Nadine flicked a glance at the board, then shifted back to Eve. “What does tomorrow’s premiere have to do with the three murders?”

“We’ve got some lines, and may very well have that nailed down before the premiere. If not, we could nail it down at the premiere.”

Nadine pursed her lips and got that reporter’s gleam in her eye. “How?”

“The how’s up to me and the NYPSD. The lure’s up to you. He tried to take me and Peabody out once. I’m saying he’ll try again, and I’m going to set the time and place.”

“Tomorrow night, at Five Star Theater.”

“It’s probable he knows I’ll be there. I want to remind him, toss it in his face, and give it some gloss so the idea of taking me down there is irresistible.”

“You talking about the gloss, the glitz, the glam?” Angling her head, Nadine gave Eve a dubious study. “It’s going to come off out of character.”

“You play up that end. I’m about looking forward to seeing the investigation I headed hit the screens. You could ask—”

“Uh-uh.” Nadine held up a finger, wagged it back and forth. “If I’m going to run this, we play by the rules. I can’t lay it all out for you, practice what I say, you say. It’s an interview or it’s not.”

“Okay. That’s fair.”

“And if this interview helps you catch your killer, you come on Now, do a segment.” Nadine ticked her finger again before Eve could object. “That’s fair, too. I’m going to have to juggle to get this—what by all appearances is a fluff piece—on air tonight.”

“Fine. Done. Deal.”

It didn’t take long. Nadine angled Eve at the office window in a way that would give the illusion, on screen, of a bigger space, and a wide view of the city.

“Lieutenant Dallas,” Nadine began, “are you looking forward to the premiere of The Icove Agenda tomorrow evening?”

“I am. It was a difficult case, a far-reaching case. The kind that sticks with you as a police officer. I’m very curious to see how the vid interprets reality.”